


Venenum

by InsaneWeasel



Category: jacksepticeye, jacksepticeye egos - Fandom
Genre: Apocaplypse, I have no idea what the Jacksepticeye fandom status is or what's going on, Jacksepticeye egos, Medical Malpractice, Mystery, Other, Short Chapters, Vague POVs, dark themes, sanatorium, vague story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 19:40:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17392475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneWeasel/pseuds/InsaneWeasel
Summary: The slow unraveling of Venenum and everyone affected.Alt Sum: In the present day of 2XXX a man unlike many others revisits the Hospital-cum-Sanatorium he worked for as brief flashbacks to the past hint of the growing disturbance within the Sanatorium that isn't just from the number of staff becoming afflicted with the disease and is from something much worse.





	1. Sanatorium in Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my 2018 Spring Semester Geography 105 binder--context has been lost on me.

His pack and spirit are light. Darkness presses in yet his eyes, bright and luminescent, stick out. He is unlike most—pressing on through the humid fog clinging to his skin, his clothes—the acrid scent of decay and illness fermented and coating the air he breathed in—the taste and smell burning with each inhale and exhale. Most wouldn’t be scavenging out here. They—with their brittle skins, their sunken circles under their eyes, the fear and paranoia dancing around their heads—stay within isolated communities, reliant on the likes of him. His immunity. They—the last true humans—rely on him to bring them back “safe” food and supplies.

Safe is relative. He knows they can’t tell the difference like he can; that the invisible plague and poison of toxins in the food, the water, the air—the air sinking into his skin—would mutate or kill them. There is no true humans that will ever survive this. He finds he doesn’t care. On days he’s feeling especially vindictive, he gives them a tainted supply. Small amounts—just enough to infect them slowly.

Humanity is done. They are the new breed.

Today is not for _them_.

It is for him.

Himself…his old human self.

Revisiting the sanatorium, he worked at once…Before they understood, before it all went terribly wrong.


	2. A Starting Point

_(A hospital-cum-sanatorium 20xx)_

“Doctor, you’re needed—he—it happened again.”

He looked up from the sink where he’s just turned the water off. He reaches up for the paper-towel dispenser and dries his hands. A low sigh. How has he become the go-to for this. One of the few still willing to deal with it. Unofficially of course. Officially—it is every doctor’s duty—but in these trying days…

He pulls a pair of gloves free from a box and once their well-fitted he puts on a face-mask. He forsakes other formalities these days—there is no time to be as strict and as professional as he must. He briskly follows her—her pace soon grows to a jog as they both hear the clamor of commotion, of talk—he has a sinking suspicion of the situation. Despite her warning he had hoped…Their pace borders on a jog as they clear through the crowd to come upon a grisly unwelcomed site. People are hugging the walls to avoid the man who is trembling, fearful. It is one of the interns—Chase—he’s sobbing and he knows what’s horribly wrong with this image before his eyes even take in the details. Underneath Chase’s bangs and half-closed eyes—they will be a pitch black. His hair, loose and disheveled does not cover the visible cut on the back of his neck where a strange green lines the edge of the cut and where the skin should be red and inflamed it is a bright green.

It is the infection. The same disease that has started this all.

“I’m fine…don’t...please…” he’s crying. The doctor inhaled sharply. He is…was…a good intern. People begin to return to their duties, avoiding the area as the doctor crouches next to their newest patient.

“It’s okay; we’ll take care of this,” he said. Chase looks at him desperate, even those eyes carry such a hopeful look.

The doctor smiled and Chase smiles too in relief.

It doesn’t meet either of their eyes—the doctor is efficient.

If nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter will get longer next time. It is 5 am. I must sleep. Or I should, at the very least.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not god--if I error on a trigger/issue please inform me so I may tag/note it.


End file.
